


It all started from collarbones

by Su02



Series: Su writes nsfw [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Begging, Blow Jobs, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Thighs, Voice Kink, collarbones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28716951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Su02/pseuds/Su02
Summary: Shirabu discovers love via thirsting over Semi’s collarbones. That’s it. That’s the fic.
Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou
Series: Su writes nsfw [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2117247
Comments: 26
Kudos: 87





	It all started from collarbones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ashxtodd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashxtodd/gifts), [soapilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soapilly/gifts).



> Ash and Lena, I cannot believe you guys dragged me to this hell but this is for yall <3

If anyone asked Shirabu how he fell in love with Semi, he would first tell them to fuck off because he did _not_ love Semi. Sure they’d fucked a few times. Daily. But that didn’t mean they were in a relationship or, God forbid, in love. But then Shirabu would start thinking because the exact instance where Semi went from being a fucking irritating senior to a fuckable irritating senior wasn’t exactly clear.

When Shirabu first saw Semi, there wasn't much to notice. After all, he’d seen delinquents before and Semi fitted that bill to a t. Ombre hair of cigarette ash tipped coal, jacked figure, thick brows constantly locked in a glare. Yep, nothing special. Then Shirabu laid eyes on his collarbones and the only words that came to mind would be _holy fuck._ To simply call it defined would be to call the entire ocean a mere puddle. The bone was structured in the most gentle of curves, sloping down from his shoulders in an alluring trough. Shadows pooled on skin, shrouding the faint gleam of sweat with intensified contour. When Semi spoke, said shadows danced, curling down the trough’s length like an onyx river and his shirt, it’s delta. No doubt the manifestation of a teenager’s wet dream. Shirabu wanted to lick it.

That said, Shirabu was a man of sophistication; he wasn’t about to simp over some random senior’s ~~extremely attractive~~ collarbones. Especially if that aforementioned senior was an idiot who only knew how to nag him. Then again, Shirabu was also a teenage boy. He had limits and apparently, Semi wearing a singlet was that limit. 

It was after practice had ran late and the two were left to pack up. Exhaustion was already drawing his patience thin as they headed to the locker room to change. Roughly pulling his locker open, he vaguely heard Semi address him from the opposite side of the room.

“You played well today at the practice match.” Shirabu turned his attention to the uncharacteristic praise, forcing his gaze to rest on the crown of Semi’s head rather than the sculpted muscle on his bare back. “But” _Of course there was a but_. “You should toss to Ushijima more.”

Feigning politeness, he kept his reply curt as he went back to his business. “Okay Semi-san.”

“I think you should also take note of your wrists when you set to improve your accuracy.” 

Shirabu pulled off his shirt, roughly shoving it in his training bag before slamming the locker shut. “Noted.”

“I’ve noticed you’ve been putting more bandages on your fingers. It’s not good to overwork yourself.”

At that point, Shirabu just about had it. Whipping round with the intention to give the other a piece of his mind, he found himself staring in stunned silence. Semi was looking right back at him but he paid little attention to that because the ashen haired boy was clad in a plain, black singlet and all Shirabu could fathom were his collarbones. Thin straps veiled just enough to leave little to the imagination, providing a profound sense of mystery which elicited to temptation. 

The brunette marched up to him and pushed his forearm against his chest, pinning him against a wall. Eyes narrowing a fraction, he leaned in close, voice dipping low but still maintaining an ironically polite tone. “Semi-san, please shut up.”

“Shirabu what the fuck are you do-“ And that was all he could get out before Shirabu kissed him. Well, kiss is a rather… light word to use. It was more of Shirabu smashing his lips against Semis and pushing his tongue in with the desperation of a drowning man. His fingers trailed from the other’s torso to chest, finally roaming the length of his collarbones.

And somehow that transitioned to him straddling Semi on the boy’s bed, feeling his hardening dick pressed against his crotch as he licked the living fuck out of his collarbones. Semi’s wistful sighs were like song, prompting him to push further and suck on the skin of his neck. He heard Semi gasp, a tune more refreshing than spring. If Shirabu enjoyed it, he didn’t show. He ran his fingers through moonlit locks, leaving scarlet marks trailing down to his chest like rose petals scattered across a blank canvas. In-between heavy exhales, the older boy uttered.

“Fuck, can’t you keep the marks below the shirt.”

Shirabu’s fingers curled to fists as he gave a sharp tug. “I told you to shut. The fuck. Up.” In a swift motion, he rid the other of his boxers, pressing his lips to the tip of his length, slowly working his way down. For once, Semi’s voice was a melody. No words, just moans - and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Shirabu sucked dick like he played volleyball, building him to climax with precise, calculated motions. And when he was done, Shirabu left within the hour.

In short, Semi’s collarbones made him suckable but not exactly fuckable. After all, to be fuckable, he’d have to _want_ everything, not just tolerate it. But as it stood, if Semi was a picture, Shirabu would only frame his neckline. And while it would be a grand frame of sunlit gold embellished in elaborate ornamentation, it was just the neckline. 

Discovering he liked Semi’s thighs came as a two in one package. One: apparently he liked inner thighs. Two: he especially liked _Semi’s_ inner thighs. Shirabu tells his friends he discovered it when he watched Semi serve. After all, the boy played like untamed wildfire and served with the ferocity of a tempest. Crowds swoon as he soared through the air, staring at taut lines of muscle peeking from below the hem of his shorts. Because for a fraction of a frame, all would mistake his thighs for sculpted stone, bending contours to the definition of perfection. 

But actually, Shirabu made that discovery when he sucked Semi off on a chair.

He didn’t even remember how that session began. Routine, probably. Because what started off as a way to shut the senior up became some kind of stress relief for Shirabu. 

“Strip and sit.” No introductories, no pointless small talk. Shirabu didn’t even spare Semi the light of day as he entered.

“Well someone’s impatient.” Regardless, Semi complied. Sinking to his knees, Shirabu glanced up, lips pressed in an unamused scowl to shoot him a glare. “Shut up.” 

Having done this numerous times before, the brunette knew exactly what made Semi tick. He knew it clearer than blueprints and manuals, like Semi a marionette and him the puppeteer. Shirabu applied just the right pressure, taking his length whole to force a sound from the other’s throat; a tune so enticing it’d rival a siren’s song.

“A little warning would be nice.”

The younger setter simply flashed him a middle finger, keeping pace. He heard Semi’s voice crescendo with each pull, felt muscle tense beneath his palms and had the realization of a lifetime. He was in control now. So he slowed, teased, getting the boy teetering over the edge of orgasm before pulling away sharply. 

“The _fuck_ was that for.”

And to this day, Shirabu had no idea what came over him. But he knew this was exactly where he wanted Semi to be; wrapped helplessly round his little finger like his own personal helot. Lips curling ever so slightly, he drew his fingers up the boy’s thighs with a touch lighter than feathers, fully aware they left burning trails in their wake.

“Beg.”

Rosy hues bloomed against tanned complexion as the older boy sputtered, more of shock than anything else. “Are you fucking telling me what to do?”

Shirabu took his retaliation as reluctance. He ran his tongue across taut muscle, placing scattered kisses dangerously close to his nethers but never quite touching it. That was when he knew how close he was to perfection. Lines of muscle adorned the length of his thigh, more defined than the work of artisans, more majestic than the valley of canyons. Think of the setting sun’s rays falling on marble statues at just the right angle and multiply that grandeur tenfold. Shadows were weaved like threads at a loom, flowing with the fluidity of liquid and the elegance of black silk. Shirabu wanted nothing more than to taint it. Swayed by the intoxicating lull of Semi’s groans, he sucked on smooth skin, leaving behind scarlet flowers. His fingers curled round his shaft, bringing him precariously close to release once again before stopping short.

“Fucking brat.”

Shirabu rested his chin on Semi’s thigh, meeting his scowl with an amused leer. “I told you to beg.”

With fire in his eyes and fight in his soul, Semi gritted through clenched teeth: “Dream on.”

“Suit yourself.”

Shirabu massaged the crown of his cock with his tongue, lips landing kisses right below it. He noticed Semi’s desperation seeping into the way his muscles twitched with the slightest pressure. It wasn’t long before he was a breath away from climax and again, Shirabu drew back. Cinnamon gaze met a chocolate glare in silence. 

“Beg,” he reiterated.

“No, fuck you, I can just do it myself.” But before Semi could reach down, Shirabu was on him, legs straddling his hips, hands gripping his wrists. The brunette leaned in, close enough for his warm exhales to envelop the other’s neck as his voice dipped low.

“I won’t let you.” 

Slowly loosening his hold, he pressed their lips together, tongues entwining like a waltz in motion. He felt Semi tense, familiar hands roaming the small of his back. Easing into motion, he grinded, agonizingly gentle, denying release once more. Semi broke the kiss with a muffled curse. 

“I fucking hate you,” he spat.

Shirabu hummed lightly, fingers hovering round the base of dick, letting him feel their ghost of a touch. “Is there anything else you’d like to say?”

“I’ll fucking kill you for this.”

He gave him a single stroke, excruciatingly slow and light, watching Semi bite down hard on his bottom lip to suppress a moan. Witnessing this should not be so delectable but it was. Shirabu cooed in his ear, sarcasm leaking into his honey-dipped tone. “It’s just a word.” He didn’t have to see it to know Semi’s lips were frozen ajar, hesitance trickling into his unwilling demeanor. A long beat of silence ensued, broken by nothing save for the mechanical whir of air conditioning. 

“Please.” 

There it was, a barely audible whisper that he almost mistook for a hallucination. Shirabu lapped up every second of his embarrassment like a flame devouring forests. 

“What was that?”

“I said.” If looks could kill, Shirabu would have died a million times over. “Please.”

“Louder.”

“Fuck you.”

Shirabu shrugged and said nothing, hands working a steady rhythm again. He felt muscle harden beneath his weight as the other’s voice filled the air and he couldn’t help but revel in it. Each sharp inhale, laboured exhale, and the multitude of curses slipping from his lips, barely enunciated between waves of pleasure. It resonated with a certain dignified grace, more beautiful than a lyre’s strum, more captivating than morning dew. To have this fire of a boy reduced to a panting mess was a melody he’d engraved at the back of his mind. 

He kissed the boy’s brow, palm gently wiping the sheen of sweat on his forehead. Softly, gently, he placed butterfly kisses down the hollow of his cheeks. A facade of kindness because they both knew who held the reigns here. As though Semi was a mere plaything, Shirabu brought him harrowingly close to the edge once more, not even bothering to hide his exhilaration. He felt muscle twitch, nails clawing into his back beneath his shirt as he left him hanging.

“I really fucking hate you.”

“And I, you.”

Shirabu slipped off lightly, palms trailing the length of his thigh as he sank to his knees. “You just have to beg. Loudly. Or is Semi Eita too proud for that.”

“You’re such a damn brat.”

“No, I just know how to get what I want.” He landed a kiss on the tip of his shaft, tongue running down it’s length. “And so do you.”

“I- Fuck! Okay, please. Happy now?” Shirabu saw sharp features displaying his disdain but above that, desperation. A surge of content pooled in his gut but a part of him wondered how far he could push it. 

“Please, who?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Fingers clasping round the base of his cock, he trailed his hand upwards. “No.”

He heard Semi curse again, the word ending in an embarrassing groan. Shirabu raised a brow, waiting expectantly.

“Please, Shirabu.”

He didn’t know what it was that prompted him to say what he said but against all inhibitions, he spat: “wrong name.”

Semi’s eyes widened a fraction, revealing gorgeous spheres of molten chocolate and suddenly, Shirabu’s pulse raced for a different reason altogether. The brunette found himself lost in umber hues, staring at the onyx pooling in his pupil and the flecks of cinnamon surrounding it. His gaze traveled to tousled hair, wondering when exactly did Semi’s cigar-ash locks become streams of liquified starlight. He looked to his lips; bow shaped, strawberry touched, immaculately soft. _Fuck_ , he thought. Because liking Semi’s collarbones and thighs could easily be blamed on teenage hormones. But liking his eyes? Now that’s when things start getting gay. Like gayer-than-fucking kind of gay. Then the boy spoke and Shirabu practically melted into a puddle of simp.

“Please, Kenjirou.”

Shirabu couldn’t help but obey. Taking his entire length in his mouth, the younger setter finally let him feel sweet release, swallowing the deluge of saline liquid. He heard Semi sigh, long and wistful as he pulled away. 

This was the part of the routine where Semi got dressed and left. Shirabu retreated back to his bed, crossing his legs as he gazed up. Too prideful to speak, too hesitant to move, he simply watched as Semi clothed himself before making his way to the door. His heart sank, almost uncharacteristically so. _Perhaps a moment’s worth of being pathetic couldn’t hurt._

“Wait.”

Semi instantly paused, fingers hovering over the doorknob, as he turned round with a single brow cocked to his hairline. Willing his tone even, Shirabu continued.

“You could stay… If you want.”

Shirabu might as well have proposed because Semi took the longest time to register his words. Time in which the brunette prepared himself for rejection, expecting a scoff that never came. Instead, Semi’s reply was soft, his tone imbued with confusion and maybe even a slight hint of delight. “Really?”

Shirabu pulled the covers in a gesture; an invitation. Semi hesitated but complied nonetheless. For some reason, the warmth of his embrace as they slept felt more intimate than anything they’d done before. It was the kind of hug that made him feel invincible, like standing atop a cliff and peering over the escarpment only to see the entire world lie bare beneath his feet. Shirabu wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> You mean to say this author has a collarbone kink, a thigh kink, and a voice kink??? Yes, and there will never be enough fics appreciating collarbones so here is my 4am thirst fuled contribution. HAHA but for real though, I barely read NSFW and this is kinda my first time writing it too so I thank everyone who made it through and hope it was at least a fun read. Till next time :D


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